


Tar And Candy Floss

by alwaysgus



Series: Awkward and Sassy [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-27
Updated: 2011-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysgus/pseuds/alwaysgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an unfortunate holiday mishap, the Doctor and the Ponds seek out a happier excursion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The three time travelers walked wearily through the TARDIS door - it was rare for them to enter the ship at anything less than a full gallop. It was difficult to put one foot in front of the other, nevermind having to make haste. Simply put, if a hurry had been necessary to survive, the Doctor would have been alone and in the throes of a regeneration.

"For God's sake, don't touch anything, Rory," Amy warned as she stood still, legs spread apart slightly and arms held out from her side.

"Me?" Rory shrieked. "Why is it always me? 'Rory, hands off the dials…Rory, show the visitor around but don't touch anything…Rory, make the tea….' I'm quite done with Rory comma don't, Rory comma do..."

"Rory, shut up."

" 'Rory comma imperative sentence…' "Rory took a step forward, and the sound his shoes made as they lifted and landed on the TARDIS floor sounded as if his feet were plungers.

"Take your shoes off, Rory."

Rory stared ahead of him and inhaled a deep breath through clenched teeth. He slowly removed his shirt, not for effect but because he couldn't move any faster.

"Good idea, Rory. Probably best for us to…," the Doctor began to reason just as Rory's shirt went whizzing by his head. He feared to look around but felt compelled.

Amy was still standing where she had stopped just inside the door, and Rory's shirt was plastered across her face. "…disrobe here…" He looked back at Rory. "Probably not your finest moment, Mr. Pond." The Doctor began the task of removing his own top layer of clothing when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amy attempt a full run at her husband.

Only, she was making quite an effort and moving painstakingly slow. Both men started laughing as she continued to try to close the gap between herself and Rory. So busy was Rory being amused that he failed to prepare for the attack. When Amy was within arm's length, he made an afterthought attempt at escape and stumbled out of his shoes, hitting the floor with a resounding thud.

Amy stopped her forward progress and stared down at him with one lifted brow. "Well, how are you going to get up now, stupid face?"

The Doctor had stopped laughing and hoped that he didn't have to get between the married couple, because, quite frankly, Amy would have had Rory's head under her foot before he could get himself to them. "Ok, ok, ok...everyone just…" He inhaled a deep breath through his nose and choked on the smell of them. "Well, that thought didn't end up where I had planned," he admitted, coughing through sputtered breaths. "Oh, bloody hell…that putrid smell is us, by the way. We have to take off these clothes and get them to the incinerator…like, yesterday."

"Here?" Amy asked, horrified at the thought of being in her undies in front of the Doctor – in front of her husband.

"Hey, if you want to trudge back to your bed chamber like that, we will provide provisions along the way so that you don't starve on your journey," the Doctor answered.

"Yeah, and if you perish from old age before you reach the bedroom, I promise I won't remarry straight away," Rory smirked as he tried to wiggle out of his jeans while stuck to the floor.

She rolled her eyes and made a rather rude gesture in her husband's direction before she began to shed herself of her clothes. "You know, Doctor, it may have been helpful to know that they projectile-vomit as a call to attack."

"I'm over 900 years old! I can't be expected to remember every little detail of every species I've encountered over the years," he explained irritatingly.

"Little detail?" Amy screeched. "Look at this!"

The Doctor peered up from his efforts to remove his trousers and chuckled. Amy had held up a section of hair from her head, and it remained in the upright position when she let it go and pointed to it. "Maybe that look will catch on?"

"This isn't funny. I may have to shave my head and start over!" she cried out, exasperated with him and their situation. "I mean, how does one remove alien tar vomit from hair?"

"I almost expect Scooby Doo to run through the door being chased by whatever the hell just tarred us," Rory moaned from the floor, having finally rid himself of his trousers and giving up on his shirt. He rolled onto his knees and began crawling towards their bedroom.

"Oh, no you don't, Rory Pond! If you get in that shower before I do, I will shave off your eyebrows in your sleep!"

"IT'S WILLIAMS! IT'S ALWAYS BEEN WILLIAMS!"

"Let's just calm down and think rationally. There's dozens of bathing facilities in the ship, remember?" The Doctor reasoned.

Amy stood, unashamed, in her bra and boy shorts, giving him the evil eye before running after and jumping over Rory to claim their bathroom for herself, yelling as she went. "Well, you better show Shaggy to one of them!"

Rory collapsed back onto the floor, folded his arms under his head and whined in discomfort. "I can't get out of my shirt…and now my face is STUCK TO MY ARMS!"

The Doctor, now in just his pants and socks, grabbed Rory by the ankles. "Hold your arms out over your head. I'm going to pull you out of it."

"I can't unfold my arms, Doctor!"

"Oh, Rory…" The Doctor dropped his legs onto the floor and walked around to unstick Rory from himself. "You've got to pull it together, yeah?" The Doctor placed a foot on Rory's arms, grabbed his head with both hands and gave it a tug.

"Owwwwww!"

The Doctor examined the sides of his face, "Yeah, you've still got some skin there. Stop with your yelling. Now, put your arms out, Rory."

"Another comma Rory. I'm just so tired," he complained as the Doctor dragged him across the floor, his head skipping along like a ball, leaving his shirt stuck to the TARDIS floor. "I thought that big one was going to take me as her husband…or plaything." He stood up and was pushed gently down a corridor by the Doctor. "There was fear, Doctor. Lots of fear."

"And tar. Don't forget the tar."

"Don't get married, Doctor," Rory advised, the day's events replaying in his exhausted mind. "Just say no."

He patted Rory's back as they rounded a corner into an elaborate bathroom. "It's that easy, yeah? Just say no?"

"Or run….sometimes you just have to run," Rory answered as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

The Doctor stood under the steady flow of the warm water. Thankfully, he had had very little skin exposed when they had been tarred and had been standing further away, so his clean up wasn't nearly as involved as the Ponds'. Which had worked out in his favor since Amy had eventually commandeered all of the soaps and cleaning agents on the TARDIS. She had left the shower multiple times to get this or that from different bathrooms, and her last trip back to the shower included most of the household cleaners, as well. There was an excellent chance that she would have neither hair nor skin when he saw her next.

They had been on a bit of a holiday before it all went to hell. The three of them had been so drained after the Silence that he thought it would be refreshing to travel for pleasure instead of business. The Ponds had been equally excited as they had spent the past couple of months before 1969 in Leadworth, watching telly and stalking him throughout history. The Sapphire Waterfalls sounded like just the holiday they needed. Despite the last frightening attempt, the Doctor was still eager to visit this wonder.

And they had actually enjoyed their first few days on Midnight, partaking in some particularly stimulating night life and relaxing in the spa during the day. But of course, as it tended to happen, happy fun times took a turn for the worse while they waited for the train to the waterfalls. Amy had offended a family of other-worldly creatures when one of them decided to claim Rory as her own. And it just turned to shit…actually tar…from there.

So, here they were. Another holiday turned disastrous and now trouble was afoot in marriage utopia aboard his TARDIS, as Amy was convinced that Rory had somehow been the cause of the tar monster's affections. She may very well be bigger on the inside, but when the marrieds were arguing, it was like being trapped inside a shoe box. A tiny blue shoe box. A box for Smurf shoes.

The Doctor opened his mouth and let it fill with water, only to let it dribble out from the sides. He had never really given marriage much thought, though he never really had to, he supposed. But he had little choice now that the Ponds were back and causing excitement at every turn. It wasn't always horrific. Sometimes he watched them out of a corner of his eye and envied their familiarity, something that neither shared with another. He'd be lying if he said that kind of intimacy didn't appeal to him, and it wasn't impossible, just implausible.

He rolled his lips between his teeth, remembering how it felt to have others pressed against them. Once he got over the shock of it, he missed it dreadfully. There was no denying that he and River shared something rather personal at some point in his future, and he was quickly beginning to understand why. Of course, he still had no idea who, or for that matter, _what_  she was. She felt and acted extremely human, but perception filters plagued him like...well, the plague. For what he knew of what they had already shared, he was concerned about what was left to be revealed, and this hesitancy kept him from actively seeking her out.

Yet, he still anticipated their next meeting, especially since he knew how their future encounters tended to end. He smiled a goofy smile and rinsed the soap from his hair and body. Perhaps it wouldn't be unreasonable to find her somewhere. For investigation, of course. Nasty business, spoilers. He didn't care much for being kept on a need-to-know basis with River - or anyone, really - even if it was his rule. In the Doctor's world, the more he knew, the smoother the planets spun. It was his intergalactical responsibility to know everything. And River was chocked full of everything, as far as he could tell anyway.

Having made up his mind and tricked himself into tracking River down, he pulled together a fresh costume and headed towards the TARDIS control room, with a skip in his step and a plan.

* * *

Amy and Rory stepped into the hall from their bedroom and into the Doctor as he made his way down the corridor. "Hello there, Ponds!" he exclaimed, extending an arm over each of their shoulders. "Fresh smells…fresh clothes….fresh attitudes?"

"Well, the potential for homicide has passed," Amy laughed. "There was some making up and…"

"Don't need the details, Pond," he explained as he hurried towards the TARDIS console. "Just smile and do that domineering flirty thing you do, yeah?"

"What 'domineering flirty thing'?"

"Nevermind. Right then! Off we go." The Doctor ran circles around the console, flipping switching and turning dials.

"Oh no! We are deciding this one, Doctor," Amy said just before pushing up a lever.

"Amelia Pond! You flipped something!"

"No, I didn't."

"You most certainly did. I saw you!"

"No, you didn't.

"Yes! Yes, I did! What was it?" The Doctor ran erratically around the console, checking the controls. "This is not good."

"Oh, calm down. It was just the hand brake." She pointed to the lever.

"The hand brake?" He examined the console carefully. "There's a hand brake?"

"You should pay more attention to River," Amy answered smugly.

"River, schmiver…" He mumbled. Really? A hand brake?

"Anyway, we want to go somewhere happy. Not educational, not remote and unexplored, not adventurous and not even necessarily exciting. Just some good ole fashioned happiness, no strings attached," she announced, almost demanding in tone.

"We want some feel-good times," Rory added.

"Happy?"

"Yes, Doctor, happy. You know, not sad. Or dangerous. Or sticky. Happy."

"Think...ummm... if museums gave out jammie dodgers and hats," Rory explained, recognizing that the Doctor's "happy" may be a bit different than Amy's "happy." He himself had seen the Doctor be inexplicably giddy about the opportunity to solve a dangerous puzzle.

A goofy smile spread across the Doctor's face from ear to ear. "Now, that would be rather fantastic day, indeed!"

"Yeah, that day, Doctor. That's happy. We want to go to there," Amy quickly interrupted. She outstretched her arms and placed her hands on the console. "You hear that, friend. Find us a happy place. Somewhere that oozes and stinks of feel-goodiness. No unfriendlies."

"Hey, the TARDIS takes orders from me," the Doctor chastised playfully. "I'm the Doctor."

"Well, you need to do some healing about what you just put us through," she countered. "Tar. There was lots of tar. This time, there needs to be circus-loads of smiling."

"…and candy floss…" Rory continued. "Maybe even a parade."

"Parades are fun. I like the elephants," the Doctor agreed, with a childlike twinkle in his eye. "And the girls with the batons. They throw them really high and catch them….it's magically amazing, yeah?"

"Not to mention those cozzies with the hangy-down strings that swoosh around their…."

"Focus, gentlemen!" Amy interjected. "Happy times. We're going then?"

"Yes! And we're going to let the TARDIS decide," the Doctor clapped and wiggled his fingers before releasing the hand brake, adding with a hushed murmur, "…the happiest time that also includes River…"

"Yay!" Amy twisted her hips and pumped her arms at her side in excitement.

The TARDIS jerked and spun into orbit, destination known only to her, leaving them all excited and a bit relieved that the Doctor had relinquished navigation to the ship's discretion, including the Doctor.

At least this time, if it went horribly wrong, he couldn't be blamed.


	2. Chapter 2

"I think you're getting the hang of landing," Amy praised.

"What are you going on about? I'm sitting here on the rail with you," the Doctor retorted.

"Exactly."

The Doctor ignored her and hoisted himself off the railing, walking towards the console. "Well, Ponds…let's just see where we are," he said as he reached up for the scanner.

"Why can't we just be surprised?" Amy asked with a childlike expression.

"We could be anywhere! What if we need an environment check?"

"When have you ever done an environment check? Besides, the TARDIS brought us here. We're probably safe," Amy jumped down, ran around the console and took the stairs two at a time.

"What are you saying?" The Doctor peeked under the scanner and stared at Amy with furrowed brow but she was paying him no mind.

"RORY! We're here!"

"Umm…..Amy?"

"You looked, didn't you?" He could actually hear Amy's eyes roll.

"Of course, I did. I'm not going to tell you where we are, but I am going to advise a wardrobe change," the Doctor explained.

"What? For weather? Oh no, is there snow? There's snow, isn't there?" Amy whined and then complained to the air. "I thought you liked us."

"No. No, it's not snow. I just think you'd enjoy it your time here if you looked….well, the part. I've got some things I can give you both. Give me a mo'."

The Doctor disappeared down an unexplored corridor and returned with two sets of clothes.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Rory pleaded.

"Oh, I am going to be so cute," Amy giggled.

Rory tried once again, "Really? The hat too?"

"Of course, Rory! And I promise that you won't be the only. In fact, this is what you want to be wearing today, my funny little friend."

"Where are your clothes?" Amy inquired.

"I fit in everywhere I go, Amy." The Doctor smiled smugly and made great sweeping motions with his arms up and down his body. "This is a classic."

Rory was skulking down the hall to change. "Old, you mean. You meant to say 'old'."

"Hurry along, now. Let's get a move on!" The Doctor was awkwardly excited, and Amy laughed at him cheerfully.

There was great potential for innocent fun and tomfoolery, and the Doctor was anxious to see what was in store for them.

* * *

The Doctor suppressed a giggle when Rory emerged from the corridor. He instead focused on Amy. "You look fantastic, Mrs. Pond. Shall we go?"

"Yes, we shall!"

When the TARDIS door opened, they were met with shouts and the faint sound of big band music. They had landed discretely in a back alley, and they watched as a sea of people marched down the street, all smiling and laughing.

Amy's face lit up. "Where are we, Doctor? When are we?"

"I'm sure it will be obvious when we step out of the alley. Come along, Ponds. Stick close and look up. If we get separated, send a message to me via the psychic paper."

The street was packed, but they found a small hole in which to wedge themselves and followed the crowd. Rory looked at the Doctor and nodded knowingly at the hundreds of similarly dressed men – sailors in their finest whites. Amy looked up animatedly. "Is this Times Square?"

"Yes, Amy. This is most definitely Times Square," the Doctor said proudly, almost as if he had built it himself. "And there is the when…"

Amy and Rory followed his pointed finger to a scrolling marquis above them _. Japs Surrender_.

"1944? 45?" Rory asked.

"Precisely, August 14, 1945. My best guess, judging from the crowd, is that the American President just announced," the Doctor supposed. "I wonder what the likelihood is that we'll see The Kiss."

"What kiss?"

He looked incredulously at Amy. "What kiss? THE kiss. Probably the most recognizable of the 20th century."

"Yeah, Scottish," she reminded him, pointing at herself.

"Oh, Amy Amy Amy. This wasn't just America's war, you know. It was fought across three continents for six years, more than two before the Unites States even became involved. You were there, remember?"

Amy nodded, the recollection of meeting the Prime Minister made her heart smile, which her face reflected.

"However, the joy and relief of the end of the American conflict in the Pacific was probably best captured when an American soldier grabbed a nurse as she passed him by and gave her a victory kiss," the Doctor went on to say.

"…and this is the place…" Amy said in amazement.

"I remember that photo," Rory said.

The crowd had thinned out a bit the further down Broadway they walked, but it had become noticeably livelier. Big band music blared from a café, and couples were swing dancing and jitterbugging on the sidewalk. Amy began to sway with music, and even Rory rocked back and forth as they watched the scene unfold. It wasn't long before a dancing couple made their way over to the Ponds, taking them by the hands and dragging them into the celebration. They reluctantly joined in and became a part of history in little more than the blink of an eye. They waved to the Doctor and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone in a crowd of thousands.

He began walking down Broadway, against the traffic. The smiles and laughter were contagious, and he found himself grinning at the strangers who passed him by. He shuffled through the confetti and shredded paper that filled the street, weaving in and out between abandoned vehicles.

The Doctor had to admit that the TARDIS had been spectacularly on-point with dropping the Ponds in this of all happy places. This happened to be one of his favorite moments in time as well, but he was disappointed that his request had gone ignored. It seemed that everyone had someone, even total strangers were bonded together in victory and national pride.

The smell of something sweet and intoxicating wafted just over the heads of those celebrating. He followed the smell to a street vendor and chuckled aloud. Candy floss. He saw the vendor passing the treat out randomly as people walked by, and the Doctor was one of the lucky few as he was given a heaping helping of it. His intention was to save it for Rory, but his instinct was to gobble it up. Which is exactly what he did.

The Doctor leaned back against a storefront and propped a bent leg on the window. All-in-all, he would have to say that this trip had been a success. It was hard not to be happy during such a joyous occasion. Night was starting to fall, but the residents of New York continued to congregate in the streets. Kids were running free while their parents stood on front stoops and exchanged stories with neighbors. Civilians would stop servicemen in the street to shake their hands or give them a pat on the back. And the Doctor knew that celebrations like this were occurring across the nation in cities and towns - large and small, and he also knew that this Bravest Generation had yet to even see their greatest achievements. He couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face. He loved to see the human race in all it's glory - it occurred so rarely.

The sound of a rather popular song that he had long enjoyed could be heard from a building across the street, and the Doctor followed the sound. As he neared, he saw that it was coming from the local U.S.O. center. He reached in his jacket pocket to pull out his psychic paper for military identification, but he was waved on through the doors. Every American had served his or her country and was welcomed on that night.

The room was about equal parts servicemen and regular Joes, and, as usual, the lady volunteers milled about to make everyone feel that there was absolutely no better place to be. Someone must have been standing ready with victory decorations, as red, white and blue streamers, banners and balloons hung from corner to corner. Off to one side was a bar and opposite it across the room were a handful of couples dancing to the popular wartime songs being played.

He made his way over to the jukebox and was hugged by two women and a soldier before he had crossed the room. He had been standing there for several minutes examining the contents when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, he saw a petite brunette looking up at him with amusement. The Doctor suddenly felt very socially awkward. "Umm…hello there. Nice party you're having. I was just…umm…trying to decide which…."

"You're cute, Mister."

Mister? How old did he look? "Thank you, I think…" His eyebrows turned inward as he contemplated the varying ways the situation could go.

"So, a friend of mine wanted me to pass a message along to ya," the young girl managed to say between chews of her gum.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep."

He stood there for a few seconds as the girl curiously pondered his face. "OK….I think I'm ready. Let's hear it."

"She said I have to tell you in your ear," she answered, adding, "She's a little peculiar."

Any other time the Doctor would have been skeptical about letting a stranger that close to his face, but it was V-J Day. Nothing bad happened on V-J Day. He bent down to give her easier access.

"You got it, Mister?"

He tried to keep his cool and look unaffected and failed miserably. "Loud and clear. Thanks, kid." She walked away hurriedly, and he ran to catch up to her.

"Hey, kid!"

She stopped and spun around on her heels. "Barbara."

"Again?"

"Barbara. My name is Barbara, but everyone calls me Bobbie. You can call me Barbara," she informed him.

"Okay, Barbara. Tell me, please. Your friend? Is she here?" He asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

"Sure!" When the Doctor took his eyes off of her to scan the crowd, Barbara skipped off into the maze of people.

He walked the perimeter of the room twice and couldn't locate her. As he found himself back at the jukebox, he propped an elbow on its side and his weary gaze fell to the dancing couples.

Where he saw the smiling face of River Song, who greeted him from across the room with a wink and blown kiss before she was whisked in circles by her partner to disappear from view.


	3. Chapter 3

There was an awkward and unfamiliar flopping of his internal organs as he frantically scanned the crowd for River. He looked down at his chest and abdomen to see if the phenomenon was visible to the naked eye. The Doctor was quite sure that he was in the clear and vowed to never eat an entire cone of candy floss again. His body was obviously trying to warn him against such frivolity.

Where did she get off to? There were only so many places she could go. The room was most certainly adequate to handle the day-to-day operations of the U.S.O., but tonight it seemed every serviceman in the city had chosen this room to celebrate. Not to mention the volunteers and civilians who were dancing and chatting it up. Barbara seemed to have gone missing as well.

Suddenly, a flash of swinging hips swept across his line of vision. There was definitely no mistaking those hips, and from the back, their swaying was a bit hypnotic. Her partner - not the same gentleman as before - had his hands alarmingly close to her backside as he swung her around the dance floor. He got that candy sick feeling again. Damn floss. He made a mental note to chastise Rory for making it seem like a heavenly treat. He looked down at his stomach as if to issue a visual warning, and when he looked back up, she had disappeared once again.

He rolled his eyes and dropped his head into the palm of his hand. His warm-and-fuzzies was in danger of being replaced with anxious-and-irritated. However, the next song to blare from the jukebox saved his mood from going south. Soon, he was watching the crowd as much for the pleasure of seeing the enthusiasm as for scouting for River. His foot tapped animatedly along with the beat.

During his people watch, he made eye contact with one of the volunteers across the room. She winked at him and smiled, causing him to giggle to himself and wave timidly. She said something to a friend and began to make her way to his side of the room. He stood a little straighter and fidgeted with his bowtie. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back and forth from heel to toe, trying to look nonchalant.

Unbeknownst to the Doctor, River watched the scene unfold from her place on the dance floor.

The slender blonde took a place on the other side of the jukebox and smiled at him again. He grinned weakly and returned his attention to the crowd, silently wishing for a message to appear on the psychic paper. He took the small folio from his pocket and studied it harshly, willing it to save him from his immediate future. Nothing.

"I like this song too."

"Pardon?"

The young woman motioned to his tapping foot. "This song. It's pretty great, dontcha think?"

"Oh, yes. A truly great classic," he answered nervously. The woman looked at him curiously. "Will be, I mean…be a classic…yes, a great song."

The young woman nodded in confused agreement. "My name's Mitsy."

"Mitsy?"

"Short for Elizabeth. You know, lame parents trying to be cute, I guess."

"Ahhh…" He gave her a slight nod and looked over her head – at nothing whatsoever – and overlooked the courtesy to give her his name also.

River chuckled at the Doctor's obvious discomfort. She knew the young lady and also knew that the Doctor could not be saved from her tenacity.

Mitsy let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed the Doctor by the arm and began dragging him to the dance floor.

"Hey, umm…Mitsy…I don't think this is such a good…"

"There's no thinking tonight, Mr. Bowtie. Tonight is about freedom. Freedom from war, freedom from worry, freedom from rations and freedom to dance," she yelled above the music.

"Yes, but I haven't danced a proper swing for dozens of yea…..weeks. It'll be a disaster," he tried to explain as he stood there while she twisted and turned around him. He felt like a maypole in the middle of playing children.

"Just give me your hands, silly man, and follow me. You can do this," she beamed at him, sweetly and sincerely yet without much expectation.

Which gave him the confidence he needed. It had, indeed, been many years since he had practiced his era-specific dancing, but it was like riding the old proverbial bicycle. He twisted his hips, spun Mitsy in quick circles and shuffled his feet in lightening quick and precise movements. He pulled her to him and their clasped outstretched arms led them around the dance floor, blending right in with the other couples.

He had just begun to enjoy himself when the music faded to a subdued slow dance. Panic started to rise from his gut, and it was rather obvious to Mitsy. She leaned in close and reassured him, "I won't bite, and I'm not looking to get married. "

He let go of the breath that had been trapped in his throat and grinned slightly before taking her into his embrace. She felt nice, and he felt like a part of something so much bigger than anything he could create himself. Mitsy rested her head innocently on his chest, and he forgot about his complicated life long enough to share that moment in time with a young woman who had the potential for a most fantastic life in the booming years to come.

Until he also saw River enjoying the slow dance in much the same way. Except with a man. A man who wasn't him and who appeared to be on the marriage hunt, unlike Mitsy. Mitsy who was simply swaying against him in rhythm to the music, not making any physical claims on him like that barbarian that was towering over River. His River...and she looked equally satisfied with the placement of his hands and how his body moved against hers.

Wait…when had she become his River? That was ridiculous. A person couldn't own another person. And nobody certainly owned River. Even prison had no claim on her. The candy floss reared its ugly head again and made his stomach leap up into his chest. He expected Mitsy to be horrified and back up cautiously, but she continued to enjoy the dance as if his internal organs were not raging a silent war against him.

His eyes bulged as the interloper lowered his face against River's hair. The Doctor's mind began to race. How could he put an end to this wrongness without bringing down the spirits of the entire room…an entire room of trained killers, no less. There was only one thing that he could do. He reached discretely into his jacket pocket and shot a sonic beam through the fabric in the direction of the jukebox.

Suddenly, the room roared to life with the upbeat sounds of…Oh hell, a medley of music from the 1950s. He wasn't always spectacularly brilliant under pressure. Sometimes it went to hell.

Mitsy backed up from him and looked around the room, meeting the curious glances that most faces reflected. However, within seconds, they all fell in-like with the new sound and began once again with the fast and fancy footwork, including Mitsy.

His interference went unnoticed by all but one, and he looked in every direction of the room except for hers as he danced. The time-inappropriate tune seemed to go on forever, and he was hesitant to try and fix it while his spunky partner swung him from one end of the room to the other. With his luck, he would aim and shoot the hat off a sailor. So much for a cease-fire.

While he tossed acceptable and harmless solutions around in his brain, he didn't notice River walk up to Mitsy and tap her on the shoulder. When he felt the young woman lean in on tip toes and leave a light kiss on his cheek, only then did he see what was happening. The sweetness of Mitsy had been replaced with the irritation of River Song. It hardly seemed like a fair trade.

He smiled crookedly with raised eyebrows, "Hello….Sweetie?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, don't just stand there. Move your feet, yeah?" She demanded as people around them spun in jitterbugging circles.

"It wasn't me," he protested, grabbing both of her hands and swinging her away from him.

River stopped twirling a couple of feet from him and looked up with pursed lips and eyebrows turned inward. She pointed up to the airwaves. "Wake Up, Little Susie?"

"A fun little piece of nostalgia, yeah?" The Doctor's feet continued to kick back and forth as he held his hands out to the scolding River. He smiled innocently and tried to look less giddy and proud of himself.

She rejoined him but refused to let him off the hook so easily. "Not for 1945! You can't throw these kids ten years in the future…"

"Twelve, to be exact…."

"Doctor….."

"Oh, fine!" With the push of a button on his sonic, the music transitioned seamlessly into a big band hit. "Happy now?" he answered with feigned chagrin.

"Marvelously!" River winked at him and marched her swinging hips up to him before whirling away once again.

The Doctor studied her as she danced him around the room. This River was a bit different than the River he was accustomed to meeting. She was playful without the…umm, well, condescension. It was refreshing. She had tamed her hair into the popular victory rolls and her lips were painted a bright red that was customary for the time. She wore the same light blue frock as the other volunteers, but she had finished up her look with red heels that matched her lip color. Yes, a very different River altogether.

And how she managed to swing those hips and balance it all on those shoes would be one of the mysteries that would creep up on him in the future when his world got a bit quiet.

River was shimmying just outside of arm's reach when a sweetheart song filled the room. Ugh, the sick feeling crept back up and squeezed his middle as she walked towards him. His brain played out how badly it would go when he vomited candy floss all over her. There weren't enough soldiers in the city to protect him from the fire he was sure to come under. Was there even room under that dress to hide weaponry?

"Frightened, are we?" she asked before wrapping her arms around his neck and swaying their bodies to the music.

"Isn't this a bit…unseemly…for the times?" he asked with a quiver in his voice. After trying out several awkward positions for his hands, they finally settled near her lower back.

"Look around, Sweetie. The rules of propriety don't apply here tonight," she answered as she motioned to several other couples dancing closely and without reservation or care of opinion.

Her head rested on his shoulder and the smell of her filled his nose as they moved. He felt her muscles shift under his hands and saw the slight back-and-forth of her hips when he looked down over her shoulder. The sound of the music was as intoxicating as the feel of her pressed against him. His senses were nearing overload. Except perhaps for taste. He shook his head to rid his brain of the thought that raced through.

The song began to fade, and River lifted her head up to him. "See, that wasn't so….." The Doctor had turned an alarming mixture of green and white. "Are you okay?" She backed away from him a bit.

"I think I need a bit of fresh air – rather crowded in here all of a sudden," he explained sheepishly.

She took his hand and led him towards the front door. She stopped and put up a finger before walking back to the crowd. The Doctor's gaze followed her as she found Mitsy and gave her a hug after speaking to her quickly. River hurried back over to the Doctor and pulled him out of the door. He continued looking over his shoulder, and Mitsy waved enthusiastically before turning her attention to another young man.

He looked ahead of him as they walked into a wall of people. "How's this for uncluttered breathing, yeah?" she laughed. He was pushed into her by the masses behind him. He instinctively braced himself by grabbing her by the hips. She placed her hands over his and walked as hurriedly as the crowd would allow. The street was still packed as far down Broadway as he could see, yet he felt less crammed than in the U.S.O. He reasoned the dancing had a bit to do with his sudden panic. He was man enough to admit that his center was thrown askew a bit still by the closeness of River Song. However, in the middle of this jubilee, it seemed fitting to be so close to her. Truth be told, he was no closer to her than he was to the bloke behind him.

The difference is that he wasn't as tempted to kiss the fellow behind him as he was when River turned her head and looked up at him, smiling brightly. And kiss her is exactly what he did. She winked at him once more after he had left a light peck on her forehead.

They made no hurry to leave the laughing and loud celebrations that stretched for blocks down New York's most popular street. They slowly made their way, block after block, until there was a thinning in the swarm of euphoric Americans. They were in a more residential part of the city, and people were still milling about, doors swung open as neighbors came and went freely from each other's homes. Women sat on outside steps chatting with each other while their husbands stood in larger groups on the sidewalks, drinking beer and giving the occasional slap on the backs to passersby.

"The great thing about this city is that nearly any weekend looks just like this," she explained as he studied his surroundings, as any self-respecting time traveler should do.

"Not Tuesdays usually, I'm guessing," he answered.

She chuckled, "No, not usually."

The Doctor turned to look at her, a bit confused, "How would you know, exactly? How long have you been here?"

"A few months. Not long enough, really. I love it here, even before seven o'clock this evening."

"But we just left you in 1969 and…"

She held a finger to his lips, lingering a bit longer than necessary. "Spoilers."

"I don't understand our timestreams," he complained. He missed the feel of her finger on his lips already, which he found slightly disturbing.

"Well, I think time moves differently for me than it does for you, for starters. And we're meeting quite by accident and outside of impending danger. Surely, that makes a difference. Being outside of our context probably has fewer rules," she concluded. "I don't suppose it really matters though, does it?"

He looked down at her face, even more beautiful under the lights of the city, and reached for her hand. "No, I suppose not." By accident as far she knew…

"So, you're alone?"

"No, the Ponds are somewhere in all this mess," he replied.

"The Ponds?" She looked up at him with a quick turn of her head.

"Yes. Amy and Rory, the Ponds?" He saw confusion laced with something else dance across her face. "You don't know Amy and Rory, yet?"

River dropped her eyes from his face and nodded her head. "Of course, I know Amy and Rory. Don't be silly." She kept from him how long it had been since she had seen his companions, and she mentally noted what he was failing to acknowledge about the relationship that they all would eventually share.

"Ahh, so the intrigue remains, Dr. Song….."

"…and will remain, Doctor…." When he had pressed further, she had shushed him quickly and absolutely. "Let's just enjoy tonight, honey."

They continued walking hand-in-hand down the more obscure streets of the city in order to avoid the masses. They talked about her work at the U.S.O., and the Doctor was careful not to reveal too much information about the adventures he had had with the Ponds since he wasn't exactly sure where they were in their timestreams. When he told her the story of their latest mishap, she began laughing so hard she had to stop and lean against the wall of a nearby brownstone.

"So, when the big one grabbed Rory by the ankles and began dragging him behind her, Amy picked up a chair from the table and ran after her…"

"Stop!" she choked out between guffaws.

"Well, then of course, the whole family gets involved in the chase. And since they run about as fast as their tortoise ancestors, I was able to pass them and catch up to Amy just as she neared the runway bride with the chair raised over her head…and Rory, well Rory just cried."

"No more! Give me minute, for God's sake!" She was clutching her stomach and gasping for breath.

"Long story short, it was a mess, literally. Hence, why the Ponds needed some 'feel goodiness,' as they called it," he said, answering her inquiry as to what brought them to 1945. He stood in front of her with his thumbs hooked under his braces.

River's laughing subsided, and she looked up from her downward glance with bewilderment. "Why are your pants so short?"

"What? My pants?" He screeched, horrified. She could see his underpants? What exactly what she keeping from him? And he wasn't even wearing any pants…

"Your trousers, I meant. Your trousers," she started giggling again, realizing the miscommunication. "Been here a bit too long, perhaps."

"Oh," he took inventory of his trouser situation. They looked fine to him, and he told her as much.

"Sweetie, I can see your ankles."

"Yeah, well….I can see yours, as well," he answered weakly.

She gave him a look that screamed of dumbarse. "I'm not supposed to be able to see your socks. Who's dressing you?"

"What do you mean? I am! And I think I look magnificent," he said proudly. "Anyway, short pants are cool."

"Like bow ties and braces are cool?"

"Don't forget fezzes."

"Fezzes?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Ummm….spoilers?"

She burst into laughter again, managing to say between breaths, "Wait…bow ties, braces, short pants AND A FEZ? At the same time?" She fell against him, her forehead digging into his chest, and shook with silent hysterical laughter.

"Hey! Wait just a minute…fezzes are cool…" Her knees gave away and she grabbed onto him to keep from collapsing to the ground. The Doctor just stood there and waited for her fit to end. She looked up at him once and the not-amused look on his face just made it worse. She eventually calmed down and wiped the tears from her face with the lapel of his jacket. His shirt was damp and had spots of black from her streaking mascara.

"Fezzes would be great target practice," she added.

"Yes, I remember well," he murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He looked down at her when she lifted her head from his chest. "Oh my!"

"It's dreadful, isn't it?" She giggled. "Waterproof is still a few years off."

The Doctor laughed at the black streaks lining her face. He removed a handkerchief and licked a corner. He took her face in a hand and began wiping her clean as best as he could.

She shifted from one foot to the other. "I must look frightful," she giggled nervously.

The Doctor cupped her face with both hands and smiled. "No, Dr. Song. I'd say you are rather beautiful, as always."

And just as she opened her mouth to respond in jest, he closed the space between them and brushed his lips across hers, disrupting her ability to answer him back and causing her to lose her balance.

He caught her as her knees buckled and held her close to him. He pulled away gently from the simple kiss and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"You were saying, River….."


	5. Chapter 5

Whatever she was going to say had escaped her. River could do nothing more in that moment than look at him. His expression was soft and searching. She reached up and brushed her thumb across his lips. "When are you meeting Amy and Rory?" she asked him quietly.

The Doctor watched River's chest heave with her heavy breaths. It was mesmerizing, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. "They…uhhh….I told them to…ummm…."

"Doctor?" She lifted his chin in order to meet his eyes. "The Ponds…"

"Yes, Right. I told them to message me by the psychic paper when they were ready to go…or something like that." The smile she was giving him was almost as entrancing as her chest. "Hard to recall exactly."

"But you have no certain time to meet them?" River was staring at and fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt.

"I don't think so. Why? What have you in mind, Dr. Song?"

River pointed across the street. "See that door there?" He nodded and looked at her with curious eyes. "Well, there's a great possibility that it leads to my flat."

"Oh, does it now?" Two could play the flirting game, even nervously and without much practice.

"And your shirt could use some soaking before those stains set in…"

"And you're rather domestic as well, I see," he teased as he took her hand and began crossing the street.

River walked through the door and climbed the stairs ahead of him. "Well, there's not really a prison laundry room staff here. And though Mitsy would do my laundry, I've seen some of her pinks, and I think they were once reds…"

"Mitsy?" He was having a hard time keeping his breath as he watched her hips and rear swing with each step climbed. "The girl from the dance?"

"Yeah. My flatmate."

"Oh, really? Nice girl, that one. Do you live in the heavens?" His legs were tiring and his breath was now being caught by more than hips.

River pushed through a door labeled with a large "9" and stopped at the first door in the hall. "Here we are."

"Well, I'd say it's about bloody time," he mumbled, bent over to catch an elusive breath.

"Oh, come on, Doctor. What about all that running from monsters?" She ushered him inside the door and shut it behind them.

"They are generally courteous enough not to chase us up flights of stairs. Maybe courteous is too giving a word. Perhaps they are just too lazy." He collapsed onto a couch and stared up at the ceiling.

River kicked off her heels and followed him into the living area, towering over him as he struggled to regain his strength. She knelt down and began unbuttoning his shirt, and the Doctor quickly clasped one of his hands over hers. "A bit presumptuous, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes at him and shook off his hand. "I'm putting it in the sink to soak. Get your mind out of the gutter," she said, slapping him across the shoulder, adding, "and give me your shirt."

He sat up and let her pull it down his arms. The cool air that danced across his chest was welcoming. He hadn't even known he was hot. River stood and disappeared through a doorway down the hall. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room.

What he knew of flats, or apartments, in New York was very much in contradiction to where River was living. The living room was spacious, as was the kitchen and dining areas. There were four different doors down the hall, so he assumed that there were bedrooms for each of the women. How could two single women in 1945 afford to live in such a place?

He swung his legs over the arm of the couch, stood up and started down the hall, stepping out of his shoes along the way. He peeked around corners until he found what he looking for…and more.

River was standing over a bathroom sink, kneading his shirt in soapy water. She had removed her work frock and was in nothing more than a bra and a short lacy slip. His mouth went dry, and he blinked several times to remoisten his eyes. He knew he should have fled, but he wasn't confident that his legs could take him anywhere that was away.

"It's not nice to sneak up and stare, Doctor," she said without looking up from her task.

"No…ummm…I suppose it isn't. You win that one."

"Did you need something?"

"I'm quite sure I did, but it escapes me now," he admitted.

"Well, if you must stay, could you please take a seat on the toilet," she looked at him from the mirror. "You standing there watching over my shoulder is annoying…and a bit creepy."

The Doctor stepped into the bathroom and lowered the toilet cover, taking a seat as instructed. His reason for searching her out made its way back around to him. "I remember now."

"Congratulations," she answered. "See the man on your way out for your prize."

He ignored her and continued. "This flat is quite posh for two U.S.O. volunteers. What's the story?"

"What makes you think we don't have quite lucrative professional jobs and volunteer out of the goodness of our hearts?" The muscles in her arms bulged slightly as she vigorously rubbed the fabric of his shirt against itself.

"Do you?" he asked incredulously.

"No."

"Yeah, didn't think so. You're not…ummm…well, you don't…"

"Yes?" She stopped what she was doing and waited for him to fall into the hole that he was digging for himself.

"You know…." He made sweeping motions up and down her scantily clad body. "Selling…"

"Ladies' underwear?" She enjoyed the discomfort on his face and the fact that he was struggling to ask such a ridiculous question.

"No!" He was tiring himself out. "What goes in the…uhhh, under…things…"

"Are we prostitutes, is what you're asking…" She watched his face turn several unnatural shades of red and tried not to giggle.

He realized as the words left her mouth how ludicrous the question was, but he refused to acknowledge his lapse in judgment. "Precisely," he replied, with false confidence. "This is a very nice flat, River."

"That is not paid for on our backs, Doctor." She had gone back to washing his shirt, and a redness had begun to creep up her neck. He had traveled with women long enough to recognize this as the rise of anger. Not exactly how he envisioned turning her skin red.

"You're absolutely right." He stood and walked over behind her, adding quietly, "I'm sorry, River."

The shame in his voice melted her heart, and her instinct was to turn around and lead him into the bedroom. However, she also knew that now was not the time or place. "No worries, Doctor. Look, Mitsy is a resident in another containment facility, and we are here trying to earn our pardons."

"Doing what?"

"Now, that I cannot tell you. I just thought maybe you should know that it isn't as sinister as your wild imagination would allow to you believe. You would wear yourself out jumping to all sorts of conclusions…maybe even break something." She looked up at him and smiled.

"Fair enough, I suppose." He was still standing behind her and could feel the warmth radiating from her body. He wanted to reach out and touch her so much that the sick feeling had begun to bubble again in his stomach.

She could feel his warm breath on her bare shoulders, and she didn't know how long she could keep herself in check. She felt that all-too-familiar tingling in her stomach as he continued to stand so close to her. She dared not even raise her eyes to look at him. She had finished washing his shirt, but she was afraid to make any move that would cause any part of her body to touch any part of his.

"River…" He whispered her name so quietly, it sounded more like a prayer than a name.

"I'm done now, Doctor," she replied almost as softly. "Let's go back to the living room, ok?"

"I think that if I don't touch you, I'm going to be sick."

She chuckled and said, "You really know who to woo a girl, Doctor."

"I'm serious. I feel all sweaty and dizzy, and my stomach really hates me," he confessed. "I had way too much candy floss earlier."

"And what does cotton candy have to do with touching me?"

"Well, I felt fine until not touching you became unbearable. That's when the sick feeling started again." He was almost whining.

"That's not sick you're feeling. That's like," she explained.

"Like what?"

"No, not like as in 'as if.'" She sighed. "Why do you make everything so difficult?"

"'Like' how?" He had figured it out but was enjoying her exasperation.

She dropped her chin to her chest. She'd never had to explain to someone that they fancied her. How was she going to get out of this?

When she lowered her head, the Doctor took advantage of the situation. He swept her hair from her neck and placed a feathered kiss at her hairline. "Like this?"

Her insides began to pound erratically. She attempted a protest. "Please, Doctor. Not here."

"Oh…well…." He kissed her shoulder, letting the tip of his tongue come into contact with the skin. "What about here?"

She had begun to pant more than breathe. "No, I meant, here in this place. In this time."

He trailed kisses up her neck to her ear. "What's wrong with this place and time?"

She turned around and put a hand on his chest. "It's not our place. Or our time…"

He took her hands and entwined their fingers. "Let's make it ours."

"We can't. It belongs to them." She motioned her head to the hall, and it was then that he saw the small cameras in the corners of the ceilings.

He reached around her and braced himself against the counter, pressing closer into her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and moaned softly, "Dear God, why?"

"Oh, Sweetie. If you only knew how badly I want this to go the other way." She leaned her head back onto his shoulder.

"What kind of horrible prison would let you live on the outside but not enjoy it?" he asked. He shouldn't have put his face so close to her skin again. He had little choice but to kiss it.

"It's not that I can't, exactly," she explained. "It's just that I don't want to with Eye-in-the-Sky watching…you've gotta stop doing that…"

He had replaced his kisses with little bites near her collarbone, and he ran his hands up and down the curve of her waistline. He looked in the mirror and saw a look on her face that he had never seen before. He himself had been the cause of many an expression upon the faces of people and creatures alike: disgust, fear, unease, happiness, sadness and confusion among the many. But never this…never lust. He quite liked the power.

"River…"

"Hmmm…" She was quickly losing her resolve.

"Look in the mirror." He all but growled.

"What? Why?" She couldn't even open her eyes, much less raise her head.

"Just do it."

River lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at them in mirror. The skin across her chest was flushed, and she could see the sheen of his kisses on her shoulder. His fingers were walking across her stomach and teasing to rise higher. She arched her back which pushed her into his groin, and she saw the sensation reflected in his face. He brushed her hair away from her neck and placed biting kisses from the crook up to her ear. His fingers spanned the other side of her neck, and he slid his hand to her face to caress her lips. She captured his forefinger in her mouth and rolled her tongue around it, sucking lightly. All of this they both watched unfold in the mirror.

"Now…River Song…tell me that you don't want to take this further…"

River closed her eyes – she couldn't bear to have to see the look on his face when she pulled away. She reached up for his hand and kissed the back of it before slipping from between him and the bathroom counter. "But we can't, my love," she said regretfully as she disappeared into the hallway.

The Doctor was still standing in front of the bathroom mirror when River walked back down the hall from her bedroom. She poked her head in the door and reached for his hand. "Come on, Sweetie. Let's take the pouting into the living room."

He reluctantly followed her to the couch and plopped down defeatedly. She sat down next to him and folded her legs under her. She had changed into a long sleeping shirt, and her knees peeked out from under the fabric. She rested her elbow on the back of the couch and ran her hands through his already messy coiff. "Are you mad?"

"No."

"You sound mad." She smiled at his infantile pouting. She expected him to throw himself to the floor and kick and scream.

"Nope. Not mad. This is just me, being rather unmad. In fact, I would venture to say that I am peachy," he smirked, his tiny voice dripping with sarcasm. "Keen, even."

"That's your happy face?"

"Yes, it is. Can't you see the happiness exploding from it?" He stretched an exaggerated smile from ear to ear, exposing his teeth.

"You look like a horse," River teased and got a small genuine grin from him.

Their attention was jerked to the window as loud popping and crackling noises erupted outside. Showers of twinkling lights could be seen in the distance, followed by more thunderous reports.

"Fireworks in Chinatown." River reached up and turned off the table lamp, leaving them with only the faint lights of the city shining through the window. "Chinatown loves their Roman candles."

The Doctor slid to the end of the couch and laid down, his head resting in River's lap as they watched the light show in the sky. "So, when will it be our time?"

"Oh, Sweetie? Why so pitiful all of a sudden?" She continued to rake her fingers across his scalp. "This was a bonus meeting, anyway."

"Well, not exactly," he admitted. "I might have asked the TARDIS to being me to you."

"I thought you said it was Amy and Rory's choice?" He could hear the smile in her voice.

"They just asked for a happy place," he said, then murmured, "and I might have asked that it include you."

"I see…"

"What do you see?"

"No, honey. It's just an expression," she explained. She bent down and kissed his temple. "I thought it was too much of a coincidence…but I'm glad you did."

The Doctor heard the familiar alert coming from his jacket pocket. "Amy and Rory are back at the TARDIS." He drew small circles on her knee and fought the urge to trail higher up her leg.

"Time to go, yeah?"

"It would seem so."

"What about your shirt? It's still wet," she reasoned, trying not to seem too eager for him to stay longer.

"With all the shenanigans going on out there, I doubt I'd be noticed in either a wet shirt or no shirt at all," he answered.

"Well then, let's not make it any harder than it has to be," she said as she bounced his head out of her lap and stood, holding out her hand.

He put his hand in hers and followed her to the door. "You know, I can stay overnight…sleep on the couch. Amy and Rory won't be bothered."

"That would just be prolonging the inevitable, Doctor." River rubbed his palm with her thumb and raised it to her lips.

He watched the sensuality of that one action, and it was almost more than he could bear. He took her face in his hands and backed her up against the door. The Doctor descended on her lips roughly and searched out her tongue with his own. River met his urgency with equal passion, scratching her nails down the naked skin of his back. He reached behind her and grabbed her rounded flesh, pulling her into him, seeking the right amount of pressure in all the right spots. Their desperate hungry kisses eventually faded into soft lingering ones, and the Doctor stroked her face with the backs of fingers.

"I don't want you to go," she whimpered, breaking their kiss and taking a breath.

"I don't have to."

"Yes, you do, Sweetie," she lied.

"You know that sick feeling I had earlier?" he asked softly, and she nodded. "I don't think it was 'like'."

She giggled. "Oh really? Was it lust?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "No, I think it was the other one."

Rivers knees wobbled, and she smiled up at him. "Shhhh….spoilers."

"Not so much, Dr. Song." He grabbed his shirt and jacket from the chairs they hung over and began walking out of the door.

"I think you may be onto something," River said after him and gently closed the door. She walked towards her bedroom with heavy steps before spinning around and running back to the door. She threw it open and caught him just as he opened the door to the stairs.

"Hey!"

The Doctor turned around, looking ever so charming in his short pants and braces over bare skin. "Change of heart?"

"Never, Sweetie," She winked and added, "but before I came here, I may have been assigned to Honolulu in December 1941."

"Right in the thick of it, yeah?"

"Is there any other place to be?"

"I could probably make 1941 happen, but isn't that spoilers?"

"Oh, to hell with it," she answered with a laugh and shut the door.

The Doctor skipped down the stairs, threw open the door leading to the street and dove back into the still-celebrating masses. He had a ship to catch.


	6. Epilogue

"Doctor!" Amy greeted him with a hug and a shout.

"We have had… " hiccup "…a frabralous time!" Amy exclaimed, twirling around with Rory's sailor cap positioned sideways on her head.

"Frabralous, yeah?" He grabbed hold of her shoulders and steadied her, trying and failing to make eye contact. "Looks like you might even be a bit pissed."

"Oh, we're way pissed, Tocdor," Rory yelled from the other side of the console. "I may wear this on every bender. Did you know that this little costume is like an alcohol gift card?" He stepped around the console, and the Doctor saw that his face was covered in pink goo and he was missing half of his wardrobe.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Is that it? I thought maybe you traded your trousers for drinks?"

"Yeah, I lost them. Maybe they're with your shirt," he replied, rather definitively as if it was a regular occurrence, and the Doctor didn't pursue it any further.

"Well, perhaps you might want to rethink wearing it out for a night on the town," the Doctor warned.

Amy laughed around her hiccups. "Yeah, Rorrreee. It'll be a bender of a different sort in that nonsense." She doubled over, amused by her own joke.

Rory made an unsuccessful attempt to get around the console to Amy, tripping over his feet and breaking his fall with his face.

The Doctor knelt down to him and checked that he was still breathing. "Yep, that's gonna hurt in the morning…Rory?"

No answer.

"Roorrrreeeee?" Amy straddled him and bounced up and down on his rear until she turned green. "Uh oh…"

"Don't you dare!"

She leapt to her feet and legged it down the hall towards her bedroom. The Doctor grabbed Rory by the ankles for the second time of the day and began dragging him down the path his wife had just fled. He took very little care and wasn't sure if the thud he'd heard had been Rory's head or his hand hitting the doorframe as they rounded the corner of the bedroom.

"Help me get your dead-weighted husband onto the bed, yeah?"

Amy was lying face down across the bed, arms stretched over her head and feet dangling near the floor. She hadn't quite made it to the center and looked rather uncomfortable. She mumbled into the mattress.

"I'm sorry, dear. I don't think the translation matrix has the full grasp of grunting." He was still holding Rory by the ankles. "In hindsight, all that twirling and bouncing may have been a bit silly, perhaps?"

She turned her head and spoke through a fan of ginger. "Leave him on the floor." The Doctor dropped his ankles and made his way over to Amy. "Where are we going now, Doctor? And why is the TARDIS in such a hurry to get there?"

"We're still in the alley, Amy," he sighed as he tried to swing the lower half of her body onto the bed. "I could use a trifle bit of help."

Amy used her elbows to drag herself further onto the bed, continuing her whine. "But where are we are going nooooowww? And can I sleep when we get there? Am I need to fight stuff?"

"Probably not," he answered. "Maybe a beach. Slight chance of a bombing. Only time will tell, really."

Silence.

He swept her hair from her face and saw that she wouldn't be seeing the light of day for quite some time. The Doctor removed her remaining shoe and dropped it on the floor behind him as he walked out of the door. He felt rather uneasy about the maybe-maybe not pregnancy and the amount of alcohol she had consumed, but it was done. He just hoped that one night of drinking wouldn't result in a psychopathic offspring. He'd have to be more careful until he sorted out that nonsensical mess.

He took off his jacket and hung it over the railing. As he walked over to the console, he felt some discomfort on his back. He reached a hand around and touched tender skin. "What in the name of…" Holding the console mirror around, he saw what was causing his pain. Scratches. And they suddenly seemed less painful. He smiled and filed that sick feeling away.

He crossed his arms and addressed his oldest and dearest friend. "You did a magnificent job bringing us here, Sexy. But I need one more favor…"

He flipped a few switches and turned some dials, careful not to get ahead of himself. "I really want to go to Honolulu, December 1941. Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know. Quite dangerous on the beach with the unpleasant air raids, but…" He felt foolish confessing that he wanted to follow a woman through time and space, but he continued. "…River's there. And she doesn't know I'm coming, but if she didn't want me there, she wouldn't have told me, yeah?"

He typed in the coordinates and rested a hand on the parking brakes. "I know you're going to take me where I'm needed nearly all of the time, but this once…can you just humor me, please?"

He released the parking brake and pushed up the throttle, causing the TARDIS to come to life. The Doctor felt the familiar jerk of takeoff and walked over to the handrail, where he waited as his ship whirled gently across time and space. Those blue stabilizers really did do the trick.


End file.
